


Love Loves

by VindictiveStorm



Series: ACOP2019 - Happy Ver. [4]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AgentCorp Daughter, F/F, wants to know how they fell in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21517315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VindictiveStorm/pseuds/VindictiveStorm
Summary: Arin had always asked how her Moms met, how they fell in love ... she's 22 when she gets something ... that resembles a truth. That doesn't mean she had been told lies all her life though - one day she's sure she'll get the entire truth from them.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Lena Luthor
Series: ACOP2019 - Happy Ver. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541182
Comments: 6
Kudos: 96





	Love Loves

Arin Luthor was a young little girl, and like most little girls, she had a taste, no matter how selective, for adventure, heroes, princesses, and happy endings. Naturally, she had spent some time imagining her own wedding. Having been present at her mothers’ wedding herself, she knew exactly what was supposed to be at her wedding, and all the little fun things that her mothers forgot were certainly included in her perfect fantasy. Like the animal balloons. And water guns. 

One afternoon, scribbling away with her watercolor markers - thank you mommy - on the amazing white furry rug in their spacious living room, Arin paused, nibbling cutely at her lip as she raised her head, searching for one of her mothers. Spying her mama curled up on the big fat bean bag, Arin toddled quickly at her, falling freely onto a squishy warm tummy as her mama gave an ‘oof’. 

Clambering up higher until she was standing, and staring deep into warm, loving eyes - Arin steadied herself, grasping onto short red hairs, and tugging until mama bopped their noses together. Pleased with the small kiss, Arin tugged again, recollecting Alex’s attention, “Mama, mama.” 

“Arin, Arin,” Alex teased, picking up Arin before the young girl decided to jump on her in her excitement. “What’s wrong? Is it snack time?” 

“Nmm. No!” Arin laughed, legs wiggling. “Mama love me?”

“Yes, Mama loves you. So much,” Alex promised, tenderly, nuzzling her sweet little girl, hugging the small bean, heart burning with how adorable she was - how perfect - even on her bad days. “Arin loves Mama?”

“Yes!” Arin squealed loudly, uncaring of her volume - the way she knew it, this far in her short life, the louder she said it, the more true it was. And there was nothing more truthful than the fact that she loved Mama, “And Mommy!” and Mommy, of course. But what she needed to know was if: “Mama love Mommy?” 

“Of course, jellybean,” Alex cooed, “no one else loves Mommy more than you and me.” 

With a wide smile, Arin mirrored a nodding Alex, pleased with learning more and more, and even more, that Alex was so happy with her, “Mama love Mommy first?” 

There was a pause, a blink or two before Mama smiled again. “Almost, baby. Mommy loved me first. She saw me in the water, came up to tell Mama she was beautiful, and cried when I told her I love her too.” 

“Like princess!” 

“Exactly! Then we found Arin and we live happily everyday.”

“But why Mommy cry?” 

“Because she loved Mama so much, her heart was too heavy, so it hurt. Only when she told Mama she loved her, when she shared her love with Mama, it wasn’t heavy anymore.”

//

At seven years old, Arin was beginning to learn how to use her numbers. 

Contrary to popular belief, Lena hadn’t immediately tried to track down which colleges were accepting in a decade and a half. And contrary to another popular belief, Alex hadn’t immediately whisked their child to the DEO’s shooting range for a physical demonstration in physics and maths. They had simply passed along papers, documents from time to time, allowing the young, eager girl to help her mommy and mama jot down numbers. 

Both have had their share of self esteem problems - and privately, anxiety over official documentations before acclimating to the necessity in their respective jobs. Allowing Arin a task she could deem important enough, though without any real consequence, they thought would help reenforce their respect and acceptance in their girls mistakes and learning process. 

So, it wasn’t unnatural to find their little girl at the dinner table, with a tongue stuck out while pouring over a copy of L-Corp’s papers as Alex washed the dishes. 

“Mama,” Arin chirped, chewing on her pen, “how old are you?” she asked, innocently enough.

“Twenty two,” Alex replied without missing a beat. And though she had told Arin the same the year before, and the year prior to that, the girl was a little too invested in her task to pin her Mama down with questions. With a nod, she determinedly set the two 2’s onto the lines before reading the next line.

“How about Mommy? How old is Mommy?” Arin asked, trying to recall how many candles had been placed on her Mommy’s cake a few months ago.   
“Forty seven,” nodding absently, the little girl noted that down frighteningly quickly. Once done, she gave into the growing curiosity and began to subtract the two numbers. “Wow! Mommy is 25 years older than you?!” She exclaimed, pushing away the papers, nuzzling happily into the hands that mussed up her hair as Alex settled behind her. 

“That’s right, baby,” Alex snickered, “25.”

“How did you fall in love with someone so old?” Arin asked, grabbing her Mama's hand with both of her own. “25 years … she’s basically like, a billion years older than you!” 

“Oh yes, she is,” Alex nodded solemnly, “but your Mommy is also very pretty, and very smart - as a younger woman, I fell right for her charms, and experience. There was nothing that could have saved me from your Mommy. Do you know what we call people like Mommy? Very pretty, very smart, and like a billion years old?” 

“Hmmm. No?”

“Cradle Snatcher. Don’t say it outside, or to Mommy though, ok?” 

//

Seventeen now, Arin was both a terror and delight to have. Both her mothers have had rebellious, angry, silent teenage years and while they had been expectant, they were in no way prepared when Arin isolated herself, and later lashed out when prodded more than once. It had been a struggle to put to words what exactly plagued their daughter’s mind, what had clawed the strong confidence they’ve tried to build with her - but with some help, they were able to maintain healthy, strong bonds with one another. It was a boon that neither woman had while growing up, it had felt more than right to bestow it upon their daughter, though they had kept quiet on their own shadows, their own formative years, seeing no reason to detract from their priority in their daughter. 

Among many pressures she had felt, many of which had been laid to rest, the most recent one prompted Arin to ambush her mother, right at the door. 

It was Friday night - it was date night - she had to accost her Mama before Mommy came home, and swept Mama off her feet in some unnecessarily dramatic fashion, always worried that her work had inadvertently made her neglect her two sweethearts at home. No offense to her Mommy though, Mama was simply more approachable, silly and giggly, too. 

“Mum, what did Mom say when you first … you know?” She shrugged, awkwardly peeling the coat off Alex’s shoulders, hanging it on a free hanger. 

Alex peered at her with an odd expression, before a smirk surfaced, “she asked if I wanted to come back with her and see her King Sized Bed.” 

“And did you? Go?” 

There was a long pause at that, and Arin kept her hands busy, fumbling falsely at her task as she endured the painfully awkward silence that stretched between the two of them. Only to drop everything when two fingers tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Let’s get some snacks,” Alex suggested gently, steering Arin into the kitchen, content with the mess on the floor. “And sorry ‘bout the joke - I couldn’t tell you were serious. Is this serious, baby?” 

“A little bit,” Arin admitted as she sunk into the tall stool at the kitchen island. “I mean. I’m 17, so it isn’t that big of a deal but I can’t ask anyone my age, and you two are the only people I know so far who can give me an answer that isn’t … sugar coated, hormone-coated?” 

“About sex?” 

“Well. And love? Kissing? Dating?” Arin squirmed, face flushed. “I … no one just … it’s not like school. Every year you keep advancing a grade, for sure, but there isn’t like some due date for those … milestones. Somehow everyone’s already reached it like five times a year, but I’m just … there’s no one for me.” 

“Are you tempted, though?” Alex peered at her drumming her fingers along her cup, “Someone who makes you want to try? Or is this … inadequacy, something you feel from your peers?” 

“!”

“Ah,” Alex smiles, bitterly, “I had a feeling … when you said you weren’t going to prom, and then you actually didn’t go-”

“There is nothing wrong with that! I’m not paying 500$ admission, and 1500$ for a new pair of shoes, makeup, and dress for a night to see the same people I see and endure everyday anyway,” Arin began passionately.

“Anyone come to mind when you say that though?” Alex interjected, “is there anyone you would throw down 2000$ for, for a night, for several nights, and hell, maybe even a few years?”

“I … no, no! No one is worth that kind of upkeeping!” 

“Not yet anyway,” Alex smiled knowingly, “It’s also a shit example, but it is an example. You already broke down prom to it’s bare essentials, so I know you can do it with love - or, your definition of love anyway. If no one qualifies, then no one qualifies. If you don’t want to play around, you don’t have to either,” Alex rounds the island to hug her. “You’re just stuck in a very, very small space, with faces you’ve memorized, transgressions that aren’t buried well - it’s lonely for sure. But just give it two more years, baby. The world is so much bigger than you think it is, you don’t have to worry about not finding anyone to share the world with - friends or otherwise.” 

“Did someone teach you that, too, Mama?”

“Hindsight. But she’s a very harsh teacher. It doesn’t make you stupid though, or anyone else stupid - your Mommy had to be taught too before we married.” 

“Don’t let her hear you!!” Arin hissed as the tell tale jingling of keys at the front door announced Lena’s arrival. 

// 

“Wait,” Arin choked, as she scarfed down the large plate of spaghetti in front of her. Wiping her mouth - because she wasn’t an animal - she leveled a disbelieving look at Lena, equally unamused as she sipped her wine. “You’re not … older than Mum?” She asked, gesturing to Alex with her fork. 

“Yes. She’s,” Lena glared, “the older one.”

“She’s like … 22!!”

“Every year?!” The unamused mother pointed out, down right growling at Alex who had let a few giggles escape, watching Arin’s jaw work itself stupid. 

“You … You got me there,” Arin quietly admitted with a red face as she stuffed herself with a meatball. 

“Lena, sweety, it’s just a small little lie - like how you cried when I said yes!”

“I’m not taking that from someone who cries over cheesecake.”

“Hey!”

“Every time.” 

“Well, I’m not taking it from someone who cried when they knocked me up!”

“You’re ruining my dinner, moms!” 

“You were also crying - every time I shoved my-”

“Look! Just! Mom!” Arin waved her fork around, “Settle it once and for all, how did you guys meet and fall in love?” 

Somehow, even given the power to set the record straight didn’t please the Luthor matriarch, it seemed. Setting her wine down, and crossing her arms, Lena turned her head, embarrassed? Or irritated, neither redhead could tell until quiet soft words came through. 

“… Well. She’s the only one that promised to stick around and actually did it. I thought I should put a ring on it before she went and got herself picked off.” 

Not the most complimentary, Arin knew, but judging by her Mama’s grin and misty eyes, it was as good as it was going to get from her cranky Mom. 

“Thanks, babe, that was real sweet of you.”

Arin smiled and burned the story into her memory. Between her Mama and Mommy, Mommy had always been more shy, more guarded. She had no doubt the truth had been told, but she’d have to deconstruct and maybe beg Mama some other time for the full story. 

For now though … Arin turned to Alex, leveling her best expectant-Luthor glare, though it was underwhelming compared to her Mommy’s, Alex was game after being plied with food, and soft from Lena’s endearing confessions (after suffering horribly from her little white lies though, it was guilt that did her in, surely.) 

“Haven’t you been listening, kid? I loved her every time she was her silly self. When she cried, chasing me into the surf, when she hijacked my undercover mission and destroyed a man 4 times our height with a hairclip, and when she made a picnic on her balcony and invited me, at like 3 in the morning -”

“Zip it, or I’m leaving you to sleep on the balcony tonight!”

**Author's Note:**

> I got really tired with this at the end. Opps.


End file.
